Red Fortress, Blue Fortress
by Tyranno's girl
Summary: Welcome to the battlefield! Here we have two teams, one Red and one Blue, but I will warn you, they are a rowdy bunch. Especially the big Russian guy and that crazy American. Inspired by TF2. Future RussAme, FrUk, GerIta, and PruCan.
1. Meet the French Spy

**A/N: Yes, I know that I have many other projects that I'm supposed to be updating (from my YouTube channel Lupina09 to the 'Hetalia, ROTA' project that is on this site) but this will not leave me alone! **

**Surely some of us have heard of the class-based shooting game ****Team Fortress 2****? Well, if you haven't go look up the character trailers, it is so funny (but seeing as how it's made by the same group who made Portal/Portal 2, it can't not be awesome)! **

**And with each character being a different nationality (kind of like a certain anime we all know and love) it was a perfect fit. **

**I just hope that I can get the comedy across right. **

**And to anyone who asks 'Why isn't this classified as a crossover?' I already have an understanding with the site because anytime I tried to put a story in the crossover section in the past, it would get corrupted to the point that the site just told me to forget it. **

**Oh, to those who don't know about TF2, some quick background: **

**There are two teams: the Red Team, and the Blue Team. The characters in each team are basically the same but it only depends on which team they're on. Also, they are referred to by what their class is. For example: A red Scout vs a blue Scout or a Red Soldier vs a Blue Soldier. **

**Main Characters who appear in this chapter: **

**America as The Soldier **

**Romano as The Scout **

**Russia as The Heavy (Heavy Weapons Specialist) **

**France as The Spy **

**Germania as The Infiltrator (made-up class just for the sake of this chapter) **

**Pairings that will be in this story: RussAme, FrUk, GerIta, PruCan… and I'll specify as time goes on.**

**Other characters have brief mentions but you guys can have fun recognizing them.**

**Let's read!**

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><p>Situated in the middle of a desert, were two fortresses that sat facing each other across a river. They were both identical to each other in every way, except one was blue and one was red. Those who worked in each of these fortresses had an ongoing war, so to speak, with the members of the other fortress. It was a powder-keg of a situation that could be ignited with two simple words.<p>

"Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!" The voice of a Ukrainian woman announced, sirens and alarm-lights going off like crazy. "There is a Red Infiltrator in the base!" Standing in front of a large computer display, a young man dressed in blue-toned camouflauge with short blonde hair adjusted his glasses as he read the words on the main screen,

"A Red Infiltrator?" The American Soldier choked before growling, "Oh, not in _my_ base!" He quickly grabbed the weapon closest to him, a missile-launcher, and made sure that he had a back-up pistol in his pocket before rushing through the fortress, calling out, "Hut-two, hut-two! Move people, MOVE!" The Ukrainian woman's voice spoke from the speakers again,

"Protect the briefcase!"

"Y'all heard the girl!" The blonde Soldier yelled as he ran, refilling his ammo as he went, "Protect the damn briefcase!" He was briefly wondering where everyone was as he turned a corner and saw a young man, Italian, with chocolate brown hair dressed in a blue shirt and black pants, tugging at the door at the end of the hall. The cap on his head and the crowbar attached to his back gave away his occupation: Scout. He glanced back and narrowed his eyes, calling over,

"Hey!" He gave one more pull, "A little help here?"

"Freaking Italians…" The blonde adjusted his glasses after he moved the brunette to the side, "Let me see…" He surveyed the keypad for a moment before he typed in, "1-1-1-1…Um… 1!"

A loud buzzing revealed that he was wrong, the blonde Soldier clenching his fist, "Son of a…"

"Please to be moving out of way!" A deep, Russian-accented voice called from the front of the hallway. Both the Soldier and Scout gulped and turned around to see a cream-haired, tall, broadly built man dressed in a blue over-coat holding a large gattling gun as he charged towards them. The two younger men screamed as the Russian Heavy Weapons specialist crashed into them, all three crashed through the door before quickly standing up and giving a battle-cry of,

"RAH!", before they quickly realizied that the room was empty aside from the blue suitcase sitting on the center table. The Scout quickly walked over to the case and announced,

"Hey, it's still here!"

"Alright then." The Russian smiled, playing with the blonde soldier's hair. "You were worrying for nothing, dorogoy." The Soldier growled, he always hated the older man's over-affectionate ways,

"Get offa me, you Commie bastard…" The sound of someone clearing their throat caused them all to turn towards the door and see a man with wavy blonde hair that seemed to dance in the nonexistent breeze despite it being covered in a blue beret. His chin was covered in slight stubble and his clothing, a well-pressed suit, was the same shade as his beret. He was currently carrying a body over his shoulder as he addressed those in the room,

"Gentlemen?"

_Meet the French Spy!_

"I see zat the briefcase is safe." The Spy nodded as he walked into the room with his heavy burden, the Soldier puffing himself up in pride,

"Safe and sound!"

"See with your own eyes.", The Scout added.

"Hm…" The Frenchman regarded the suitcase with a brief glance before he asked, "Ah, tell me, did anyone happen to kill a Red Spy or Red Infiltrator on ze way here?" The Russian Heavy gave a shrug,

"Nyet..?"

"I see." The Spy nodded before he snapped, "Then we still have a problem!", then tossed the body on his shoulder onto the table. The deceased was an Australian dressed in blue, their cause of death a knife embedded in his back.

"Ooh~! Big fucking deal!" The Italian Scout huffed as he pulled out the knife and began twirling it around, "I've killed plenty of Spies: dime a dozen back-stabbing scum-bag bastards…" He turned to the Frenchman and smirked, "Like you—Ow!", just before he cut his finger.

"If you managed to kill them, zen I assure you zat they are nothing like me…" The Spy began as he took the knife, effortlessly spinning it, "And nothing like ze creature zat is loose in this building.", before he tossed it up into the air and it landed back in the Scout's hands without harm.

"Che palle!" The Italian laughed, "What are you, president of his fan club?" As everyone laughed, the Spy chuckled as well, a heart-breaking smile on his lips,

"Non my friend…" He brought out a manila folder from behind him before shaking his head, "Non… Zat would be your father!" The blonde spy slammed the folder against the table, glossy polaroid pictures spilling out: all of them depicting a man who looked like an older version of the Scout in various arousing positions with another man who had long, golden hair with a bit of it braided to the side: The Infiltrator.

"Ah-!" The Scout sputtered as he looked at a photo of his dad making out with the Infiltrator.

"What the-?" He choked as he saw an image of the two going to bed.

"Huh?" He yelled as one picture showed both men in the nude, drenched in sweat from their actions, his father riding the other's lap. As the Italian stood there in shock, the Soldier and the Heavy Weapons specialist looked at the picture; the latter commenting,

"Nice technique…"

"Indeed." The Spy spoke up before he rushed to the table, slamming his hands against the cluttered table, "And now he's here to FUCK us!" The Frenchman sighed, digging into his coat for a silver case. He opened it, revealing neat rows of cigarettes, one of which he took and pressed between his lips, "So listen up, boy! Or pornography starring your father will be the _second_ worse thing to happen to you today!"

The Scout wanted to say something (or, better yet, punch the Spy in the face) but he settled for gathering the pictures up. The American and Russia were still looking at them, however, the young soldier even whistling as he looked at the more provacative shots. "Damn Lovino, you Italians sure look good in bed, huh?"

"Bastardo! Give me that!" The brunette Scout snapped, ripping the pictures from the hands of the two voyeurs. But the French Spy was looking intently at the security map on the wall behind them; the lights blinking brightly. He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag, exhaling the ash-filled smoke in the form of the words, "The Infiltrator has already breached past our best defences…"

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><p>The Red Infiltrator, called such because of his red uniform, was rushing down the darkened hallways of the fortress, stopping behind a corner to make sure that his gun was loaded and to get a survey of the land. The Germanic man's blue eyes narrowed as they saw a young blonde man, probably English, working on a sentry: a motion sensitive gun-system, to protect the area.<p>

The Infiltrator waited until the English Engineer stood and wiped a smudge of oil from his cheek, "There we are."

In an instant, the Infiltrator dug into his pocket and tossed a small device towards the sentry. It slid underneath the machine, the magnets in it causing the sentry to short-circuit; sparks of electricity flying everywhere.

"Ah!" The young Engineer groaned, shielding his eyes. He quickly reached into his pocket for his walkie-talkie, yelling, "Sentry down!" He was about to unlatch his shot-gun from his belt when a loud boom heralded the bullet that had just embedded itself in his skull.

After his body slumped to the door, the Infiltrator kicked it away and moved on; placing his own gun back into his pocket.

* * *

><p>"You see what he has done to our colleagues!" The Spy shouted, gesturing to the dead Australian on the table.<p>

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><p>"Damn intruder alerts…" The Australian Sniper groaned, scratching at the bandage on the bridge of his nose, "Always ruining my concentration…" He was completely quiet as he looked around, keeping his rifle steady. But when a shift in the air caused his messy brown hair to shift, he quickly turned and saw the Infiltrator, knife in hand. "Oh no ya don't!" The Sniper grinned, grabbing for the machete he kept on the small crate in his hiding place.<p>

However, he received a firm kick to the chest, strong enough that when he crashed against the wall, he left an indent. Still a bit dazed, the Sniper tried to attack the intruder the Infiltrator smirked and whipped his hand forward, nicking the young Aussie on the cheek.

The Sniper seethed as he felt blood stinging his cheek, accidentally giving the other the room to cut across his stomach and, when the younger doubled over from pain, he embedded his blade into the Sniper's spine before kicking the body over the staircase.

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><p>"But worst of all," The Spy stated, lighting another cigarette as he finished the previous one off, "He could be <em>any one<em> of us…"

* * *

><p>"Damn you!" The German Medic, with his slicked back blonde hair and blue scrubs, roared out as he tried to force his trusty bone-saw into the Infiltrator's chest. But the Red Infiltrator merely dodged the weapon and seized the younger's arm, pressing it behind the Medic's chest before he proceeded to show off one of his and the Spy's most prominent abilities. He smirked before his appearance shifted into an exact replica of the Medic he was fighting. "Scheisse…" The Medic gritted out before the Infiltrator wrapped his hands around his head and gave a quick snap to the side, breaking the German's neck; not before ripping away the silver cross from his neck and placing it around his own.<p>

* * *

><p>"He could even be in zis <em>very<em> room!" The French Spy added on, "He could be you! He could be me! He could even be -!" _Boom!_ The Spy was cut off when a bullet rushed forward into his skull, causing him to collapse, dead, to the floor.

"Ay Dio Caro (Oh Dear God)!" The Scout yelled when the Spy's head wound began spouting blood.

"Dorogoy," The Heavy Weapons specialist sighed as if he were talking about the weather, "Why did you do that?" The Soldier merely cocked his gun and gave a shrug of his shoulders,

"What? It was obvious that _he_ was the Red Infiltrator!" The Russian and the American stepped forward and looked at the Frenchman's body, "Watch," The blonde huffed, "He'll change into his red self any moment now!" They watched for a moment before the Soldier gave the dead spy a kick with his foot, "Any moment now…"

As they watched the body, they were completely oblivious to the Scout walking up behind them: murder in his eyes and the knife from earlier in his hand.

"Hah! See, red!" The Soldier announced but as he looked closely he frowned, "No, wait. That's more blood."

"So we are still having problem." The Heavy Weapon specialist stated, the Soldier nodding,

"Huge."

They were still regarding the body, so they didn't notice when the Italian Blue Scout shifted shape into the Germanic Red Infiltrator.

"Alrighty then," The young blonde announced, checking his gun, "Who's ready to go find this sonuva bitch?" Both blue-clad men flinched when they felt hands on their shoulders accompanied by a gruff voice saying,

"Right behind you." The American gulped,

"Oh…"

"Shit!" The Russian finished right before they were both subjected to the Infiltrator's vicious attack: the sounds of stabs and gunshots audible throughout the fortress.

* * *

><p><em>Francis Bonnefoy<em>

_Age 25_

_Birthplace: Paris, France_

_Birthdate: July 14th_

_Occupation: Spy_

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><p>When all was said and done, the Germanic Infiltrator fished through the table covered in blood and photos for one in particular: it was of him and the Scout's father taking a walk through a local park.<p>

"Oh Julius," He smiled, "Such a charmer." He placed the picture into his shirt for safe-keeping before he picked up the suitcase that he had come for and proceeded to leave the room, stepping over blood and dead bodies on his way.

* * *

><p><em>Aldric Beilschmidt<em>

_Age 55_

_Birthplace: Unknown _

_Birthdate: Uknown _

_Occupation: Infiltrator_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**Germania's bio doesn't have that much to it because, well, if you've been unfortunate enough to meet him, chances are you're kind of… well, dead. And not able to write down any info about him. **

**This was inspired by the 'Meet the Spy' trailer for ****Team Fortress 2****, look it up on YouTube if you're interested. **

**Don't worry, no one in this story stays dead longer than the duration of a chapter.**

**If you didn't think that this was God-awful (it was a quick write), please leave a review. I write for feedback people! **

**Next class: The English Engineer **

**-Tyranno's girl.**


	2. Meet the British Engineer

**A/N: Characters in this chapter: **

**England as The Engineer **

**Let's read. **

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><p><em>Meet the British Engineer!<em>

In the middle of the night, in that same barren desert, a young man dressed in red working clothes was sitting against the side of a truck; idly playing a song on an electric-guitar that was glazed over with the image of the British flag. His short-cut blonde hair was gently caressed by the night breeze as he played before he looked in front of him, grassy green eyes shining.

"'Ello there love," The blonde smiled as his fingers kept strumming along his baby, "I'm an Engineer. That means I solve problems." He was quiet for a moment, simply letting the notes fill the air before he added, "Not problems like 'what is beauty', because that falls within the conundrums of true-to-life philosophy and things of that sort."

He abruptly stopped to whip his head to the side, two stray bullets clanging against the car behind him. "You see, I solve _practical_ problems." The young Brit let his guitar rest on his lap before he moved a gloved hand into the cooler besides him to grab a bottle of rum. He snapped the cover off and took a long dreg from it.

As he drank, a mechanical whirr could be heard before a bright flash filled the area; accompanied by two gun-shots and a scream of agony that had a peculiar Russian accent. After the bottle was empty, the blonde Engineer set the bottle down and went back to playing. As he played, he went on,

"For instance: how do I stop some bloody, uphill-gardening bugger from tearing me a structurally superfluous new arsehole?"

One of the sentries surrounding him beeped as it turned and aimed at the hill behind the Engineer's jeep before firing off two rounds; a scream of "Agh! Freaking dunderheid!" crying out.

"The answer?" The Engineer smirked, not looking away from the guitar strings in the least.

The sentry with a machine gun attached to it fired a continuous round, the sound of two screaming Italians filling the air. After a moment, the Engineer kept playing as he spoke, "Use a gun. And if that doesn't work lads, use _more_ guns!" Just then, the largest sentry sent off a pack of missiles in a certain direction. The Engineer stopped playing for a second, keeping his ears open.

The sound of a large explosion was followed by a French voice screaming, "MON BRAS (My arm)!" The blonde only chuckled as he went back to playing his guitar, only briefly noticing a blood-spattered, gloved, disembodied hand flying towards his feet.

"Perhaps maybe this little heavy-caliber tripod-mounted number designed by me…" The young Brit kicked the hand into the air, the sentry immediately aiming to shoot at it, "Built by me…" The machine-gun sentry went off again. "And you'd better hope…" He looked towards the camera with blazing green eyes, "Not aimed at you.", before he went back to playing his guitar.

He was completely at ease, playing his guitar and surrounded by his precious machines that mowed down anyone who was wearing blue and got within visual-range.

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><p><em>Arthur Kirkland<em>

_Age 24_

_Birthplace: London, England_

_Birthdate: April 23__rd_

_Occupation: Engineer_

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><p><strong>OMAKE<strong>

Like clockwork, the Blue Fortress had launched yet another attack on the Red Fortress. Amongst all the chaos and combat, the young British Engineer had managed to set up a series of sentries to defend his make-shift hideout, so he decided to sit down for a nice cup of tea.

But no sooner had he set up a small benson-burner, a small device slid across the floor. "Oh, _please_ don't tell me!" It was a small steel magnet that, immediately, caused the main sentry to short-circuit and shut-down. "Damn it!" Arthur screamed, pulling out a wrench from his pocket and trying to see what he could do about the ill-fated machine. Just as he opened the machine up, he heard a painfully familiar laugh: the type of laugh that just screamed, 'I zink zat I am better zan you at everything, you silly non-French person!' "SPY!"

Indeed, the Blue Spy was standing across the clearing laughing at the Red Engineer's misfortune. When he noticed that the young man was glaring at him, Francis blew him a kiss before rushing off.

"Get back here!" The Engineer shouted as he rushed after him, screaming, "Spy sapping my sentry! Spy sapping my sentry! **( 1 )**" Rage was completely feuling the Englishman as he chased the Spy, to the point that he didn't notice when he wandered into the Blue Fortress until he heard the tell-tale beeps and whirrs of sentry-aiming software.

He looked around and saw twelve sentries aimed right at him. "Crap."

From his own hideout, the Blue Engineer sat with the Blue Spy and watched with a smirk as his sentries all opened fire, the Red Engineer screaming, "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!", as he was mowed down by enemy-fire.

The Blue Spy and Engineer merely gave each a high-five at a job well done.

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><p><strong>AN: **

**( 1 ) 'Spy sapping my sentry'… Basically, in the game the Spy class has the ability to basically render any weapon made by an Engineer useless. Sounds a lot like something France would do to England just to be annoying, huh? **

**Next class: The Italian Scouts (Yeah, that's right, 'Scout**_**s**_**') **

**-Tyranno's girl.**


	3. Meet the Italian Scouts

**A/N: Hey! I want to give a big thanks to TheDistorted for their review. I decided to upload a chapter today in celebration of Valve releasing Team Fortress 2 for free _and_ the release of the 'Meet the Medic' official trailer! Let's go.**

**Characters who appear in this chapter: **

**Romano as The Scout **

**N. Italy as The (Backup) Scout**

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><p>The Blue Team had finally gotten enough resources to launch an attack on the Red Fortress. They were all hidden under the cover of darkness, a sliver of light flashing over a young Italian man wearing a blue shirt, black pants, and a cap on his head. His chocolate-toned eyes, the same shade as his hair, narrowed as they watched the occupants of the enemy base laughing and cajoling around.<p>

Finally, he loaded his faithful shot-gun and whispered, "Come on!", as he went on ahead into the red lion's den.

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><p>"Feliciano, I'll get you something to eat in a bit. Just hold the damn camera!" In a secluded room lit by only one hanging light-bulb, there was a (for lack of a better term) haphazardly drawn poster that read '<em>Meet the Italian Scout! Part One<em>' hanging on the wall and, before long, the Italian from earlier walked in front of it, shaking his head,

"Che palle! I don't even know where to start with you!" He held his hands out in front of the poster and asked, "Do you…" He had to keep his disbelieving laughs (he couldn't imagine that there would be someone who _didn't_ know who he was), "Do you know who you're talking to?"

* * *

><p>The red-clad Russian Heavy was running about, trying to see who was attempting to break into their base, when his eyes keyed in on something sitting on a nearby crate. A glistening, unopened bottle of…<p>

"Vodka!" He chimed, setting his gun down and walking over to retrieve the alcoholic drink. It didn't take him _any_ time to open the bottle and he was about to take a nice, long, drink before he was interrupted by a cold, steel object pressing against his cheek. He frowned and looked over to see the blue Scout, who gave a nonchalant,

"What's up?"

* * *

><p>Back in his secluded room, he spoke to the camera, "Do you have any idea, <em>any<em> idea of who I am?"

"Ve… I don't think they would. Isn't this why you're making the video fratello?" The Scout frowned before he sighed,

"Shut up Feli. Just…", he could barely finish his sentence without screaming in frustration.

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><p>"Grah!" The Russian Heavy roared out as he tried to land a powerful punch into the Scout's face, just for the young Italian to dodge out of the way with a (very manly, honest) scream before he held up his own fists for a fight.<p>

* * *

><p>"Basically…" The Scout shrugged, "Kind of a big fucking deal."<p>

* * *

><p>Next we see that, somehow, the Italian has gotten onto the Russian's back; now trying to strangle the larger male with his lucky crowbar.<p>

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><p>"Aw man… Now that's beautiful…" The brunette smirked as he tried flexing his (almost non-existent, by the way) bicep.<p>

"Isn't that a bit vain?" The Italian Scout responded with a yell of

"Shut up and film, damn it!", before he asked, "Are you listening now?" The camera moved up and down, before counting off on his fingers, "Okay, tomatoes grow, birds fly, the sun shines, and fucker, I hurt people!"

* * *

><p>Just as the Russian heavy was about to try and grab him, the Italian Scout took his crowbar in hand and whacked it into the older man's crotch, shouting, "BOINK!"<p>

* * *

><p>The young Italian chuckled, "A fucking force of nature!"<p>

* * *

><p>While the Russian was on clutching at his crotch in agony, the Italian cracked the crowbar across his jaw, "BONK!"<p>

* * *

><p>"If you were from where <em>I<em> was from," The young Scout explained, "You'd be fucking dead Bastardo!", before remembering how he completely owned that one Russian bastard. A smirk grew on his face before he shouted, "Whoo!"

_Lovino Vargas _

_Age 19 _

_Birthplace: Rome, Italy _

_Birthdate: June 2nd_

_Occupation: Scout_

**OMAKE 1**

"Hey, lard-fat!" The Italian called out to the Russian's corpse, as he playfully patted the abandoned over-sized weapon. "I'm thinking of taking Solnyshko for a nice lasagna dinner! What do you think of that, fatso?"

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><p>In a few minutes, the poster had been slightly changed to read: <em>'Meet the Italian Scout! Part 2'<em> and a new figure was standing in front of it. He looked a lot like the other Scout, even had the same red uniform (without the hat and a silver cross dangling from his neck) only his hair was lighter and he was a lot more smiley. "Ve… Fratello, what do I do again?"

"Just talk about who you are and what you do so that you won't get fired!" The younger Italian Scout yelped out,

"Ve? But I can't get fired now! Padre had to work so hard to get me this job~!"

"Then hurry the fuck up!" The younger Italian nodded before he began,

"Buon giorno! My name is Feliciano Vargas and –"

"Idiota!" Lovino yelled, "Don't tell them your name!"

"Sorry… Um…" Feliciano hummed for a bit before he stated, "I'm a Scout just like my big brother Lovino!"

"Che palle! Don't tell them my name either!" Lovino was about to go on before he dropped the camera and rushed over to his brother, strangling the younger while spouting all sorts of Italian obscenities not suitable for young ears.

_Feliciano Vargas_

_Age 19 _

_Birthplace: Venice, Italy_

_Birthplace: June 2__nd_

_Occupation: Scout (Backup)_

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><p><strong>OMAKE 2<strong>

"Ludwig~!" Feliciano ran sobbing into the Clinic of the red base. A blonde, German man dressed in red scrubs sighed before he spoke,

"What is it now Feliciano? And what have I told you about using actual names?" The young Scout sniffled before sitting on top of the Medic's examination table.

"Lovino's mad at me! Now I have to hide out here until he calms down…" The German Medic merely went back to work, loading his syringe-gun in case of a retaliation from the Blue Fortress, and tried to ignore the blubbering of the other male until the words, "I'm going to take a nice siesta while I wait…"

"Wait, no!" The Medic began to yell but soon found he was too late as the little Italian was already fast asleep; little 've's emitting through his gentle breathing.

For a while, Ludwig sat there frowning and honestly considering throwing the brunette out…

A soft, red fleece blanket was gently draped over the sleeping Italian. The Medic made sure that all the corners of the blanket were tucked in (his OCD kicking in) before he sat at his desk and went back to work.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**Next up: The German Medic **

**-Tyranno's girl**


	4. Meet the German Medic

**A/N: **

**Characters in this chapter: **

**Germany as The Medic**

**Russia as The Heavy **

**America as The Soldier **

**England as The Engineer **

**France as The Spy **

**Ireland as The DemoMan**

**Romano as The Scout**

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><p><em>Meet the German Medic!<em>

As a Medic, Ludwig Beilschmidt had seen plenty of things upon enlisting at the Red Fortress. Some of the oddest moments would occur when he wouldn't even be on base.

For instance, once when he was coming back from vacation leave…

* * *

><p><em>Hoarse coughing was heard as a young, blonde, American Blue Soldier crawled across the decimated battlefield. His eyes watered with every movement, but he was desperate to make it over to the dying Blue Engineer over yonder; the Englishman on his last breath. <em>

"_Engie…" The younger blonde wheezed out, crawling onto the train tracks to get to his friend. He hissed as he got into a sitting position, taking the Engineer into his arms. "Don't you die on me, damn it! Dad, please!" But the Engineer's head slowly lolled to the side, signaling that he had left this world. "No… No. NO!" The Soldier sobbed before he yelled, "MEDIC!", desperately trying to find help. But when he saw that they were alone, he screamed out in pure anguish –_

_The loud whistle of a train sounded just as the large locomotive rushed through the tracks, wiping the two completely away. _

_Inside the train, the Red Medic was distracted from his nap as a splatter of red hit the window._

* * *

><p>The Medic hummed to himself as he cleaned his syringe-gun, thinking to himself, 'Ven you are a field Medic, doing no harm is <em>not<em> the issue…'

* * *

><p>He remembered one moment, on the battlefield, he was desperately trying to give a blood transfusion to his team's Heavy, someone shot through the IV. He turned, seeing that it was an enemy Spy. So he waited.<p>

'_In fact, I often found that the best medicine vas… Preventative.'_

Just as the French Spy was about to land a finishing blow, the German Medic jumped out of the way before pulling out his bone-saw and lopping the blonde's head clean off his neck. He quickly forced the IV needle into the Spy's body before beginning to pump the blood into the Russian Heavy.

'_But the main problem was time… In the same time it would take to heal one person…'_ He looked up and saw that more of his teammates were hobbling in with massive injuries. _'Six more would take his place!'_

* * *

><p>"Ugh…" The Medic sighed as, just then, his door opened. He turned and saw The Irish DemoMan coming in, missing an arm. "Sit down." He stated, completely used to this type of thing by now. "Papers please."<p>

"Don't have 'em." The DemoMan replied. The German Medic snapped his pencil out of poorly hidden anger.

"Papers… _Please_…" He gritted out, just for the DemoMan to bark back,

"No matter how many times ye say it, it won' change facts that I don't got 'em." He then tried to use his working arm to reach the bottle of whiskey in his pocket, so he didn't notice the twitch in the Medic's eye.

Or how he slowly reached for his bone-saw…

So he didn't see it coming when said weapon was embedded into his skull, blood spouting forth before his body slumped to the ground. The blonde smirked before asking, "Vere are your precious papers _now_, Dummkopf?"

* * *

><p>After he had gotten rid of the body, and cleaned up (OCD be damned) he began some paperwork that he needed to finish before he left.<p>

Did he mention that he was going on another vacation? It was a combination of having too much break-time saved up and his stress-level getting _far_ too high. While he worked, his eyes glanced over to his special weapon, the Medi-gun. Only he, the Prussian Medic (his brother), and the Austrian Researcher were licensed to wield weapons like them. He remembered when he had first been certified to use one…

* * *

><p><em>The Red Fortress was in HELL! After a particularly vicious attack from the Blue Fortress, everyone was flooding the Medic's office for help with their injuries. It was bad enough that Ludwig was over-whelmed, but when the DemoMan rushed in with his head on fire, he caused an explosive chain reaction in the small space. <em>

_The German Medic swore he was going to bust a blood vessel when a package slid in from the delivery chute. He opened it up, wary of any traps, but his eyes went wide as he pulled out and armed his brand new Medi-gun. _

"_Now, let's see…" He turned towards the Soldier who was on the table and turned the weapon on: a stream of red light shooting forth. Soon enough, the young blonde shot straight up out of bed, all of his injuries gone. However, he didn't come alone. _

_When he was injured, he had the head of a fallen Spy in his hand. So when he was healed… _

"_KILL ME!" The Spy's head screamed, the Medic yelling before he pulled out his gun and shot at the blonde head, just for it to bounce away and scream, "KILL ME!" Ludwig shot again, the bullet bouncing off. "KILL ME!" _

"_I'm trying!" The Medic yelled, "It's like you're…" He stopped his motions and smiled, "Invincible…" _

* * *

><p>After an hour of work, Ludwig smiled. Finally, he could start packing for his well-deserved vacation an—<p>

"Medic!" In an instant, he pulled out his gun and shot the unfortunate Scout who had rushed in with a sprained ankle.

"Sorry about that," He sighed before a wicked smile appeared on his face, "But the healing is not as much fun as the hurting."

* * *

><p><em>Ludwig Beilschmidt<em>

_Age: 25_

_Birthplace: Berlin, Germany_

_Birthdate: January 18_

_Occupation: Medic_

* * *

><p><strong>OMAKE<strong>

"Now bruder," Ludwig spoke as he picked up his suitcase, "I'm counting on you to handle things here while I'm gone." An albino male with messy white hair and red medical scrubs splashed in blood laughed before placing an arm over the blonde's shoulder,

"Come on West," He laughed, "You can count on me! Go enjoy your vacation, Kesesese…" Ludwig was still a bit unsure, but he looked at the clock and saw that his train would be leaving in a few minutes.

"Don't do anything that might cause the base to burn down, Gilbert!" He shouted before rushing out the door. The albino Medic waited for a moment before looking out the window.

Ludwig was gone.

"Fuck yes!" He shouted, reaching into his bags for his own medi-gun, experimental notes, and a cage of small, adorable yellow chicks. "This office is now property of the awesomeness! And now I have a whole base to experiment on, Kesesese…"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**Next up: The _Prussian_ Medic**


	5. Meet the Prussian Medic

**A/N: Characters for this chapter: **

**Prussia as The **_**Prussian**_** Medic**

**Romano as The Scout **

**Ireland as The DemoMan**

**Russia as The Heavy **

**America as The Soldier **

**Canada as The Pyro **

**England as The Engineer **

**Austrailia as The Sniper**

**N. Italy as The Backup Scout **

**France as The Spy**

* * *

><p>It was a peaceful night in the Red Fortress, crickets chirping and nighttime creatures going about their business.<p>

A massive explosion completely destroyed that, a heavily injured Red Scout and a Blue DemoMan in a wheelchair rushing away from their losing battle. "Chigii! Move Cyclops, Move!" They ran as fast as they could, barely avoiding missiles and gunfire until the Irishman's wheelchair got caught on a rock and he flipped over onto the ground. At the same moment, a missile landed on the ground, causing the Italian to fly through the air until he crashed into a window, rasping, "Medic!"

* * *

><p><em>Meet the <em>Prussian_ Medic!_

Inside the medical ward, the air was filled with raucous laughter. Inside, we see an albino Red Medic standing beside a Red Heavy who was laying on the operating table.

"Oh! Oh, no more!" The Russian laughed out, panting despite his chest cavity being open and bleeding. But the Prussian Medic chuckled, waving his blood-covered hands, before continuing,

"And ven the patient voke up, his spine was missing, and the doctor vas never heard from again!", Cackling as he finished his story. It took a moment, but soon the Heavy was roaring out in laughter as well. "Any who," The albino sighed, wiping a tear from his eye, "That vas how I lost my medical license."

"Excuse me?" The Heavy blinked. Just then, with a chirp, a small yellow bird popped its head out from the Russian's ribcage.

"Gilbird, nein!" The albino Medic yelled, "That is no place for adorable little chickies!" He pulled the bird out and set it on a bookshelf where two other small birds were sitting. "It is filthy in zere!" He turned to the Russian and chuckled, "Heh, birds. Now," He picked up the cream-haired man's heart and held it in front of his medi-gun, a stream of red light being emanated from it, "Usually the human heart cannot stand this type of voltage, but I think zat-!"

The energy from the medi-gun caused the muscle to explode, sending a bit of flesh flying until it smacked Gilbird off the shelf. The Heavy could only ask, not being able to see that far, "What was noise?" Gilbert gulped before turning and smiling,

"The sound of progress, my friend!" He discretely tossed the remainder of heart in his hand away before rushing over to the refrigerator, looking in and seeing a bottle of vodka, the heart of a lizard, the heard of a Loch Ness hamster, the spleen of a horse, and a large heart labeled 'big, stupid baboon'. He took the later, upon moving it revealing the head of a French blue Spy. It turned and said,

"Kill me."

"Later." The albino shushed him, shutting the door with the heart in hand. He held it up to the medi-gun and began laughing as it began glowing and pumping in his hands, "Yes… Yes!" The Heavy could only chuckle nervously as the Medic's laughter got more and more maniacal. Finally, the whole muscle was glowing red. "There ve go." The albino plopped it into the Russian's chest cavity, the other man asking with a raised eyebrow,

"Should I be awake for this?"

"Eh… No." The Prussian replied, moving the other's hand to the right side of his ribcage, "But since you are, could you hold your ribcage for a bit? I can't…" He shoved, "Quite…" He shoved more, "Get this…"

_CRACK!_

The Russian Heavy bellowed out in pain, both men blinked as they saw the injured man holding one of his now-separated ribs. "Oh, don't be such a baby!" The albino smirked, taking the bone away, "Ribs grow back!" He turned towards his birds and whispered, "No they don't." Gilbird, now spattered in blood, only tilting her head at her master's voice. The albino took the medi-gun and activated it, healing up the Heavy's chest around his new heart. And in a few seconds, he was good as new; even his clothes were nicely mended.

The Heavy took a deep breath, getting used to the beating of his heart (a strange glow being visible through his skin. "What do we do now?"

"Now…" The Medic smirked, "We go practice medicine."

* * *

><p>A snap of red gloves, the rippling of medical scrubs, and the clicking of the medi-gun being attached to his back. Then the doors of the fortress slowly slid open, the Medic strolling out with his birds flying out beside him. The Heavy charged out, gun at the ready, straight into the hellish battlefield their fortress had become.<p>

The DemoMan was still trying to wheel his way back to base. When he saw the albino, the redhead shouted, "Medic!", just before a missile knocked him out of his chair. The Medic frowned before he turned on the medi-gun, a bright red glow shooting towards the bandaged DemoMan. Within a few seconds, he stood up and ripped off his casts, good as new. The albino man smirked before turning the weapon towards the Scout, who was missing a tooth and had a black eye.

A few seconds of the medi-gun's light, and his face was as dashingly perfect as always. The Italian reached behind himself and brought out his crowbar, rushing forward and managing to crack the jaw of a Soldier who was reloading his missile-launcher.

The Heavy was trying to find an opening in all the gunfire, gulping as he saw a whole fleet of Blue Soldiers marching towards them. "Doctor!" He called back, "Are you sure this will work?" The Medic smirked, laughing for a bit. This procedure… He had just thought of it a few days ago when his brother had left…

"Kesesese… I have no idea!" With that, he flipped a switch on the medi-gun, the word 'Uber' appearing in red before a surge of power shot from the weapon into the Heavy, just as the cream-haired man jumped into the fray with a mighty yell. When the light surrounded him, his heart started beating extra fast, his whole body glowing red as he walked forward shooting his gun continuously.

The Medic walked closely behind him when a missile rushed towards them, not leaving a dent in the Russian's glowing body as they moved. "HA HA HA HA!" The Russian laughed, getting the attention of a Red Engineer and a Red Sniper who had been forced to take shelter behind a rock. They watched on in amazement as The Heavy plowed through Soldier after Soldier, not so much as taking a scratch. "I AM BULLET-PROOF!"

The blood-spewing bodies of all the young Soldiers fell to the ground like a grotesque domino-effect, the Heavy and the Medic walking on top of the hill that their corpses made, the albino cackling in victory.

* * *

><p><em>Gilbert Beilschmidt <em>

_Age: 28 _

_Birthplace: Berlin. Germany _

_Birthdate: April 10__th_

_Occupation: Medic_

* * *

><p><strong>OMAKE<strong>

"Everything seems okay…" Ludwig noted as he came back from vacation, a bit earlier than he wanted to (he had this odd sense of foreboding). He walked into the main lobby of the Red Fortress and screamed, "What the Hell?"

Everyone was sitting around the lobby, waiting to see the albino Medic. "What is going here?" He asked the backup Scout, the perky Italian stating,

"Ve… Gilbert made something completely wonderful and amazing the other day when the Blue Fortress attacked! Now he's offering to give it to _everyone_! Mi fratello's in there now!" Ludwig was still unsure of what his older brother could possibly have done while he was gone, memories of lab-experiments gone horribly wrong flashing before his eyes.

He looked through the room, the French Spy reading a Romance novel, the Canadian Pyro playing with a lighter, the English Engineer playing his guitar, the American Soldier fidgeting from foot to foot in anticipation, the Irish DemoMan chugging from a bottle of whisky, and the Australian Sniper sleeping with a koala plushie in his arm.

The light above the clinic door went off, everyone waiting for Lovino to come out. "Fuck yes!" The Italian cried out as he left the room, "You all would not believe… How much this hurts!" A muffled 'piyo!' emanated from within his chest, Gilbert shouting,

"GILBIRD?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

_**Next up: The Canadian Pyro **_

**Thanks for reading! Please review! **

**-Tyranno's girl.**


	6. Meet the Canadian Pyro

**A/N: Hey, I'm actually adding onto this. Woot! This chapter is based on the fanmade Meet the Pyro Trailer by avemagnadude on YouTube since Valve has yet to make a real Pyro trailer themselves. **

**Characters – **

**Canada as The Pyro **

**America as The Soldier **

**England as The Engineer **

**Ukraine as The Announcer **

**Russia as The Heavy **

**Australia as The Sniper**

**France as The Spy **

**S. Italy (Romano) as The Scout.**

* * *

><p>"Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!" The voice of a Ukrainian woman announced, sirens and alarm-lights going off like crazy. "There is a Red Infiltrator in the base!" Standing in front of a large computer display, a young man dressed in blue-toned camouflage with short blonde hair adjusted his glasses as he read the words on the main screen,<p>

"A Red Infiltrator?" The American Soldier choked before growling, "Oh, not in _my_ base!" He quickly grabbed the weapon closest to him, a missile-launcher, and made sure that he had a back-up pistol in his pocket before rushing through the fortress, calling out, "Hut-two, hut-two! Move people, MOVE!"

* * *

><p>Across the base, in another surveillance room, a figure dressed in a blue body-suit and a black gas-mask saw the intruder alert pop up on his computer display. "Mrm Mmrmrm? (Red Infiltrator?)" He asked, his voice muffled by the gas-mask, before grabbing the flame-thrower on the counter and rushing off.<p>

The Ukrainian woman's voice spoke from the speakers again,

"Protect the briefcase!"

"Mm mu mmmm, mm!) (Just a minute Katyusha, geez)…" He shook his head, hefting up a flamethrower and latching it onto his back before he picked up an axe and a shotgun.

He looked to the screen once more: seeing surveillance footage of the Red Team's Heavy, Sniper, and Engineer playing on before he nodded to himself and rushed out the door.

* * *

><p>Both the Soldier and Scout gulped and turned around to see a cream-haired, tall, broadly built man dressed in a blue over-coat holding a large Gatling gun as he charged towards them. The two younger men screamed as the Russian Heavy Weapons specialist crashed into them, all three crashed through the door before quickly standing up and giving a battle-cry of,<p>

"RAH!", before they quickly realized that the room was empty aside from the blue suitcase sitting on the center table. The Scout quickly walked over to the case and announced,

"Hey, it's still here!"

"Alright then." The Russian smiled, playing with the blonde soldier's hair. "You were worrying for nothing, dorogoy." The Soldier growled, he always hated the older man's over-affectionate ways,

"Get offa me, you Commie bastard…" The sound of someone clearing their throat caused them all to turn towards the door and see a man with wavy blonde hair that seemed to dance in the nonexistent breeze despite it being covered in a blue beret. His chin was covered in slight stubble and his clothing, a well-pressed suit, was the same shade as his beret. He was currently carrying a body over his shoulder, stating,

"I see that ze briefcase is safe." The Soldier puffed up his chest like a proud rooster,

"Safe and sound!"

"See with your own eyes." The Scout added.

"Hm…" The Frenchman regarded the suitcase with a brief glance before he asked, "Ah, tell me, did anyone happen to kill a Red Spy or Red Infiltrator on ze way here?"

"Mm mm mmt (I got it!)!" Everyone in the room turned to see the blue body-suit clad youth from before carrying the charred remains of the Red Infiltrator.

* * *

><p><em>Meet the Canadian Pyro!<em>

* * *

><p>"Mm…" The Pyro groaned, "Mm mmn, mmm mm mmm mmttmm, M mmm mmm mm mm mmm! (Oh man, with all this attacks, I haven't gotten any sleep in <em>days<em>!)" He was about to fill out his quota sheet but as soon as he let the pen touch the paper, he collapsed into an exhausted heap.

The sleep didn't last long, however, when a voice with an Australian accent drifted into the monitor room via the screen. The young Pyro drowsily looked up to see that the Red Sniper was moving into position. "MM MMM (DAMN IT!)! Mmm mm mmm mmmm (Couldn't he have waited)?"

* * *

><p>Never the less, the Pyro was soon dragging the Infiltrator's corpse through the base, hoping to dump the body at the Red Fortress since he had to go there to kill the Sniper anyway.<p>

"Oh look bloke," The Red Sniper smirked to himself as he followed the Blue Pyro through his crosshairs, "You know who has a lot of feelings? The guy who bludgeons his wife to death with a golf trophy. See, professionals have standards…"

* * *

><p>"Mm m mmm mm mmmm (Does he ever stop talking)?" The Pyro sighed as his earpiece, which the French Spy let him borrow, let him hear everything that the Sniper was saying.<p>

"Be polite…" The Sniper began listing, taking a shot. But the Pyro quickly deflected it with his axe, "Be efficient…" Another bullet was blocked. "Have a plan to kill everyone you meet." The Sniper shot off two more bullets, which were quickly deflected. "Bugger!" The Red Sniper gritted his teeth, rubbing the bandage on his nose.

* * *

><p>"Oh, ma coeur." The Pyro flinched as he heard the familiar voice. He was about to reach for his flamethrower when the Blue Spy removed his cloaking device, fading into view. "Does that mean announcer have you working through your down-time again?"<p>

"Mm, mmm, mm mm mmm mmm mm, mh (Yeah, well, what are you going to do, eh?"

"C'est vrai (That's true)." The Blue Spy adjusted his beret before stating, "Well, I must be off. The Red Engineer is trying to set up a Sentry base in front of our fortress. Au revoir!" And with that, the blonde faded into invisibility once more.

* * *

><p>"Where'd he go?" The Red Sniper asked as he tried to track his target down, "Where the bloody hell did he go?" There was a sudden crack in his shed and when he looked towards the sound, he saw the Blue Pyro chopping his way in via his axe. "Crikey." The Sniper commented, his eyebrows up in astonish.<p>

Before any other words could be exchanged, the Pyro surged forward: embedding the axe into the Sniper's chest before kicking him down and chopping into his flesh: crimson splashing onto the floor and the walls.

* * *

><p>Heavy footfalls echoed through the storage room of the Red Fortress as a Russian clad in red carried a massive Gatling-gun to a table where two large boxes of ammo sat. He sat down before looking at the camera in the room and stating, "I am the Heavy Weapons Specialist." He smiled, a strange sort of glee appearing in his lavender eyes, as he looked down at the gun. "And <em>this<em> is my weapon."

He suddenly flinched as he heard soft footfalls from behind the giant crates of supplies and ammo around him. "Some people think that they can outsmart me…" The Russian Heavy stated out loud, reaching for a smaller shotgun underneath the table, "Maybe."

"MMMM (DEFINITELY)!" The Blue Pyro shouted, jumping down from the tallest crates: activating his flamethrower and engulfing the large man in flames: screams for help being drowned out by the weapon's noise and the Pyro's laughter.

* * *

><p>Later on that evening, a Ukrainian woman with her light hair cut into a short bob and kind blue eyes sat in her office. Her suit was actually split, vertically, into red and blue: representing her job as The Announcer. She was about to give both Fortresses a status report when her office door opened. "Yes, may I – Oh!" She saw the Blue Pyro covered in ashes and leaning against the door, exhausted. "Matvey, you poor dear! You have been working so hard today!" The Pyro slowly peeled off his gas-mask, revealing a face that looked a lot like the American soldier only with medium-length wavy hair.<p>

"Hey Katyusha…" The blonde Pyro muttered as he slowly walked over to the couch in the office.

"Yes?"

"Can you wake me up in thirty minutes? I still have to take out the Engineer…" And then, finally, the exhausted blonde was able to go to sleep. Katyusha shook her head, still smiling as she readjusted her blouse: her more than generous endowment came with troubles sometimes.

She then moved her chair closer to the monitoring screens in the room and pulled up the mic that was on the table before she announced to one and all, "Red Team, you have FAILED me. Blue Team… Victory."

* * *

><p><em>Matthew Williams <em>

_Age: 18 _

_Birthplace: Montreal, Canada _

_Birthdate: July 1__st_

_Occupation: Pyro_

* * *

><p><strong>OMAKE 1<strong>

"Mattie…" The American Soldier called as he poked his brother's cheek.

"Birdie…" The Prussian Medic smiled as he poked his boyfriend's other cheek.

"Mattie…"

"Birdie…"

"Mattie…"

"Birdie…" Finally, the Pyro shot up from the couch, screaming,

"Oh my fucking God, can't a guy get any sleep around here?" But as soon as he had said his piece, he blinked, "Wait, wait time is it?" He looked at the clock in the room and screamed when he saw what time it was, "Oh Maple, I have to go kill the Red Engineer!"

* * *

><p><strong>OMAKE 2<strong>

In the middle of the night, in that same barren desert, a young man dressed in red working clothes was sitting against the side of a truck; idly playing a song on an electric-guitar that was glazed over with the image of the British flag. His short-cut blonde hair was gently caressed by the night breeze as he played before he looked in front of him, grassy green eyes shining.

"'Ello there love," The blonde smiled as his fingers kept strumming along his baby, "I'm an Engineer. That means I solve problems."

"MM MMM MM MMM (SHUT THE FUCK UP)!" The Blue Pyro shouted as he flung his axe, the weapon spinning through the air before it embedded into the Engineer's skull with a wet crack: sticky red spraying forth.

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><p><strong>AN: **

**Please review... **

**-Tyranno's girl.**


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